


Stir

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis tries to sleep in.





	Stir

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis doesn’t have to open his eyes to know which of his omegas is crawling under the covers. Prompto’s scent is distinctly differently than Ignis, and even without that marker, Ignis simply _wouldn’t_ come back to bed past ten. It’s a wonder he’s even letting Noctis sleep so long. It’s a weekend, and Noctis has thoroughly earned the right to sleep in, but he still half expects Ignis to come drag him off to some meeting or study session or even a grueling run with Gladiolus at any given second. 

Instead, Prompto squirms across the mattress until he’s up against Noctis’ back, snuggling into Noctis’ shoulder blades. Noctis appreciates the contact. He likes cuddling with Prompto. But he also likes sleep. So he keeps his eyes closed and purposely doesn’t react. 

Prompto slips his arms around Noctis’ waist, hands riding up beneath his nightshirt. Prompto’s palms are unduly warm, his blunt fingernails digging in just enough to tingle. Prompto kisses the back of Noctis’ neck, then starts mouthing at him, leaving large, wet circles behind. He rubs his nose against the tip of Noctis’ spine and groans, “ _Noct_ , get up and play with me.”

Noctis grunts and shifts. He doesn’t roll over. He doesn’t pin Prompto to the mattress and rut between his soft thighs, because they can do that any time, whilst sleeping in is a sacred yet elusive ritual. 

Prompto doesn’t seem to care for the sanctity of it—he grinds his hips against Noctis’ backside and whines like he’s in heat. He’s not. Noctis already placated that two weeks ago, and there’s no urgent reason to attend to Prompto now. 

Prompto whimpers, “ _Noct_ ,” like he’ll die if Noctis doesn’t fuck him. Noctis pointedly shrugs out of Prompto’s grip. Prompto withdraws his arms and stops humping Noctis, but he still stays pathetically curled against Noctis’ back. 

“I want you.”

“’M sleeping.”

Prompto licks Noctis’ shoulder. Noctis is sure that Prompto’s giving him puppy eyes, generally trying to be as endearing and irresistible as possible, and if Noctis dares to look, he really will give in. 

That’s not going to happen. Around a yawn, Noctis mutters, “Go fuck Ignis or something.”

He can feel the puff of breath when Prompto huffs. Prompto lingers for a few more seconds anyway, but then he finally takes the hint and rolls out of bed on the other side. The mattress creaks as he climbs off. Quiet footsteps putter out of the bedroom, the door swinging open and staying that way. Noctis can’t help smirking against his pillow, luxuriating in his victory. 

He can fall back to sleep, hopefully regaining his place as rightful king of pancake land in his colourful breakfast dream. 

But a toe-curling moan filters into the bedroom, and a plethora of breathy noises follow it. Noctis finally gives in, peeking his eyes open. The bedroom lights are still off, but the sun’s straining against his curtains and the hallway light’s leaking in. 

He can hear Ignis shamelessly praising Prompto’s skilled tongue, and the stench of horny omegas starts to permeate the air. Soon, he can’t smell anything but _sex_. It doesn’t help that Ignis’ reserved demeanor breaks so drastically when he’s fucked—he has the filthiest mouth of any omega Noctis has ever seen, and that includes porn. 

Obviously, Prompto’s mouth is even better, because he seems to have managed to pry Ignis away from work so early in the day. 

Though Noctis can’t help frowning over his defeat, he begrudgingly gets out of bed: clearly, he has no choice but to join them.


End file.
